


"Wow" (Extended)

by stuckwithminusharry



Series: One Hundred Ways To Say I Love You (Hinny) [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, First Time, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 21:50:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16879869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuckwithminusharry/pseuds/stuckwithminusharry
Summary: "Her tongue finds his mouth with an urgency that turns his legs into jelly: for a second and an eternity nothing is real but Ginny’s fist pulling at his hair and her short fingernails that dig into his back under the t-shirt, and her mouth, her hot, gasping mouth that is kissing him like there is no tomorrow." Part 5 of 100 Ways To Say I Love You.





	"Wow" (Extended)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a perfectly innocent snogging session. Until it isn't. If you're not one for smut, feel free to read the slightly more family-friendly (but suggestive enough) shorter cut on my Tumblr: http://stuckwith-harry.tumblr.com/post/180802614613/100-ways-to-say-i-love-you-wow
> 
> It's Jessie's first go at something properly smutty. I don't have a sexy writing playlist for nothing. Be gentle, but let me know what you think!

**100 Ways To Say I Love You:** **“Wow”**

  


She did it on purpose. Harry is sure of it.

“And then we spent the rest of the day studying different stakeout strategies, and the circumstances under which they work – or don’t – and that was actually pretty fun, but don’t tell Hermione I said that.”

“Strategy’s Ron’s favourite”, Harry told Ginny, to which she responded with a gesture and a face that Harry understood to mean, _you don’t say_. “Which is fine by me, but if he starts looking forward to homework, I’m filing a complaint with Head Auror Chadwick.”

“It reminds me of chess!”, Ron said defiantly. “That’s why I like it. The logic is the same, it’s about planning your own moves, but also about predicting and responding to your opponent’s moves. Without being predictable yourself. It’s a bit of an art, really.”

“I see what you mean”, Ginny said, turning to Harry. “It’s like as soon as Hermione is over a hundred miles away, she starts haunting him.”

“Oh, shut up, both of you”, Ron told them with flaming ears.

“Yeah, Ginny, look, you’re embarrassing him.” George. The delivery was a little half-hearted, but it was a joke nonetheless, and the other faces around the dinner table softened in response. Ron didn’t even bother with a comeback.

Ginny grinned at Harry. “Sounds like you had a good day, then.”

“Strategy’s useful”, Bill chimed in from the other end of the kitchen table. “But it’s a handful, and it can be overwhelming. I hope Chadwick is going easy on you, it’s still your first year.”

“She’s not”, Harry and Ron said in unison. Ginny snickered.

“You know, considering they need Aurors so desperately, you’d think they’d try to make sure the programme is survivable at all, by, well –“

“People who aren’t Hermione?”, asked Ron.

“Pretty much. You’d think they’d hate us just a _little_ less”, Harry said. “And you’d think they’d actually let us _duel_ for a change instead of loading all this theoretical rubbish on us.”

“I thought they did”, Ginny said with a frown. She had been listening rather intently, Harry noticed. Her chin rested in her hand, her right elbow – the one closer to Harry – propped up on the tabletop, and she‘d barely broken eye contact, least of all to eat.

“Not enough, if you ask Harry”, Ron grinned.

“I just think”, Harry said, “remembering all the characteristics by which to identify a curse may not be my top priority if it’s coming at me at the speed of fucking light.”

“Language”, said Arthur, who was sitting next to Bill, deeply engrossed in his _Evening Prophet,_ though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

“And some of these tossers in our group could bloody well use the duelling lessons”, Harry muttered under his breath. Ginny seemed to find the snarky remark rather hilarious.

“He’s right about that one”, Ron said, pointing his fork at Harry.

“Some of these idiots wouldn’t last five minutes in an actual duel”, Harry said darkly. “Wonder if the Death Eaters are morons like them.”

Ginny laughed, and Harry turned back to his food, weirdly pleased with himself.

That was the moment he noticed Ginny’s leg against his. He wasn’t sure when exactly it got there, or why it had taken him until now to notice. Just that it was there, under the dinner table, one layer of jeans pressed tightly against another.

When he looked up, she raised an eyebrow, and Harry saw a smirk tug at the corner of her mouth. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, she turned away and said: “Pass the butter, Bill?”

Harry fixated his eyes on his plate. Then, very slowly, when he was sure the two of them had nobody else’s direct attention, he moved his foot around hers and tucked it firmly on the other side.

Ginny opened her mouth, but remained silent.

“So, Ron”, Harry said, looking up with utmost concentration. “Anything new from Hermione?”

Next to him, he could hear Ginny let out a quiet, amused huff, but he was very deliberately not looking at her right now.

“Oh, you know her”, said Ron warmly. “Buried up to her ears in library books.”

Harry laughed, perhaps a little too loudly – _was she really rubbing her leg against his right now?_

When he reached for the jug of water, he dared to glance at her again. Again, there was that raised eyebrow. Almost playful. Mostly, asking.

Harry leaned back in his chair, with a perfectly casual expression, and carefully lifted his heel off the floor to join in on the slow movements under the tabletop.

Ginny had no visible response to this whatsoever, except that her eyes glazed over.

As the slow rubbing of jeans against jeans continued, two very different parts of Harry were going berserk. One was feeling decidedly dizzy and thought she was positively insane for even starting this in front of her entire family – the other one agreed, but found that he was rather enjoying the whole thing.

Ginny laughed at one of Ron‘s jokes, leaning back in her chair as she did, and let her right hand fall on Harry’s thigh, as though by accident.

Harry nearly choked on his water.

 _One day,_ he found himself thinking, _that girl is going to be the death of me, and I won‘t even complain about it._

“Are you okay?”, she asked innocently, looking directly at him.

Harry pressed his knee into hers, holding the eye contact. “Spectacular”, he said, with all the nonchalance he could possibly muster.

Ginny’s eyebrow twitched. Her eyes lingered on him far longer than they usually would have, and Harry cast a glance around the dinner table to make sure no one else had picked up on … whatever it was they were doing.

But no one did pay them any attention. Ginny’s hand was still resting on his thigh, her fingers slowly bending and trailing along the fabric of his jeans, their legs were still touching under the tabletop, and Harry’s mind was running full-speed in a direction that had _everything_ to do with the way she was biting her bottom lip.

Which is why, seventeen excruciating minutes later, they’re practically running up to Ginny’s bedroom and slamming her bedroom door behind them. Harry swiftly grabs her face between his hands and crashes his mouth into hers, and together they tumble backwards. Ginny gasps into his mouth when her back touches the wall, where Harry’s body pins her into place.

“I hope you had fun”, he mutters, when they’ve run out of oxygen. “Doing that under the dinner table just to mess with me, really?”

Ginny bursts into laughter. “Yeah, actually. I’m sorry”, she says and wraps her hand around his neck. “That must have been the longest dinner of your life.”

She’s still chuckling when he kisses her again, but not for long. Soon, she is gasping and arching her body into Harry’s, opening her mouth to his tongue.

“You did seem to enjoy yourself”, she mutters into his neck when they’re catching their breath again.

“Maybe I did”, Harry breathes, struggling to maintain composure while Ginny kisses along the side of his neck and his jaw. “Still a bit confused where it came from, though …”

“Just thought it was a spectacular idea”, Ginny grins, pausing when he kisses her again, and slowly pushing her hands under his t-shirt. “And then, well … _maybe_ – the Auror thing is a bit sexy.”

Harry raises his head to look at her, and Ginny laughs at the state of his hair and his face. “It is?”

She rolls her eyes and pulls him into the next kiss. Her tongue finds his mouth with an urgency that turn his legs into jelly: for a second and an eternity nothing is real but Ginny’s fist pulling at his hair and her short fingernails that dig into his back under the t-shirt, and her mouth, her hot, gasping mouth that is kissing him like there is no tomorrow.

“Wow”, Harry gasps, when they break apart. Ginny smirks and buries her face in the crook of his neck to press kisses into his heated skin. Harry feels shivers run down his spine – Ginny’s hands are all over his back, then tugging impatiently at his t-shirt, so Harry pulls it over his head and tosses it away without looking, melting into her arms around his body.

He nimbly reaches for the top button of her green plaid shirt, undoing the buttons with the hands of someone who has unbuttoned this exact shirt several times before.

And Harry is aware of the way Ginny gasps into his mouth. He’s aware of the fact that their t-shirts have ended up on the floor a lot lately. He’s aware that their hips are locked tightly together, and that these past few weeks, Ginny’s hands have been finding their way to his belt and much as his have to hers. He’s aware they haven’t gone further, not yet.

He’s not sure why. He’s not sure he cares. Even though every time their hands start to wander, so does his mind. It does when they’re just kissing. It does in the shower. A lot.

He wonders if Ginny’s does, too.

But then she kisses him again, and it’s a simple kind of bliss that just doesn’t seem to get old: That he’s eighteen, alive, half-naked and snogging his girlfriend against her bedroom wall like it’s the only thing that matters in the world.

And that is more than enough.But Ginny’s arching into him, her tongue in his mouth is bold and exploring, and Harry – as much as he’s pretending otherwise – can feel his trousers grow tight. So maybe it’s time to do something about it, and it was Ginny who started that thing under the table, after all – so when they break apart for breath again, Harry kisses his way down her collarbones and her stomach until he’s on his knees in front of her, flushed and out of breath, with a wildly thumping heart.

One of his hands is still holding onto her waist, the other is toying with the button of her jeans – waiting for a cue. He’s beginning to feel like a bit of an idiot, but Ginny looks down at him with a gaze so intense the rest of the world temporarily blurs.

“Tell me yes”, he says.

She doesn’t even hesitate.

“Yes. Absolutely.”

Harry unbuttons her jeans and pulls them down her hips and legs, careful to leave her underwear in place, never breaking eye contact, and Ginny kicks them away impatiently. When her trousers finally fly away, landing near the rest of their clothes, she wraps her leg around Harry’s shoulder.

He lets his hand wander up to her bum and down her legs again, then he buries his face in her impossibly soft inner thigh, pressing kisses all the way down to her knee and back up again. When he reaches the spot where her leg meets her knickers, he looks up and finds her watching his every move, open-mouthed, sweating and gasping for air.

“Can you stay down there forever?”, she breathes, grinning faintly. “You wouldn’t believe how good you look doing that.”

“Fine by me.” He traces the same path down her inner thigh with his tongue, and Ginny‘s breath hitches. “Still sure?”

She nods eagerly, so Harry gathers all his courage and brings his hand to her knickers, slowly rubbing along the damp fabric with two fingers, where her entrance is.

Ginny lets her head fall back with a low moan, and Harry takes that as encouragement to carry on. His mouth finds its way back to her thigh, to the most delicate bit of skin yet, kissing and licking and gently sucking. She reaches for his hand and guides it past her underwear, and his fingers dip into her.

There is no denying it at this point. Harry can feel his erection straining against the front of his jeans, aching to break free and be touched, and the realisation of how wet Ginny is from whatever he’s been doing shoots whatever blood is left in the rest of his body straight into his trousers.

“Careful. Fingernails”, Ginny whispers breathlessly.

“Sorry – better?”

“Y-yeah – oh –” And then she lets out a whimper unlike any sound she’s made tonight, and Harry looks up.

“Sorry, did that hurt?”

“ _No. Do that again.”_

Harry carefully rubs the pad of his thumb along her middle, and when he hits the nub of skin at the front, Ginny makes that same noise and looks down at him. _“Fuck.”_

“I figured that‘s what I was doing.”

Ginny stares at him for a full second before she breaks into laughter. “I‘m sorry, did that _really_ just come out of your mouth?“

Harry feels himself flush, but grins. He looks up at her and gently tugs at her knickers. “Is it cool if these go?”

“Yeah. Extremely cool.”

Harry nods once and pulls them down. When he looks at her again, it’s the first time she’s not quite meeting his eyes.

“Are you still good?”

“Yeah. Just – this is happening.” She grins. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“We can slow down, if you want.”

“I’m good. I’ve been meaning to ask you if you’d like to get out of your jeans, actually. They’re looking rather tight.”

Harry feels himself blush as he gets back on his feet. Ginny smirks and reaches for the front of his belt, pulling him closer – the sensation of that alone makes Harry’s head spin.

“And I’ll do that”, he mumbles, hooking his fingers under the straps of her bra.

Ginny leans in to kiss his jaw while she fumbles with his belt. Harry turns his head towards her, and suddenly, they’re back to the same thing they’ve been doing for weeks – mindlessly snogging as they‘re leaning against a wall, tugging at each other’s clothes.

Except most of their clothes are already gone this time around.

“Uhm – is this supposed to refuse to open?”

Ginny snickers. “Sorry. Bras are idiotic. Uhm – push the ends towards each other, then open. They’re hooks.”

“Okay … okay, got it.”

Ginny lets him pull the straps down her arms, and Harry chucks the bra on the floor. When he turns back around to look at, she’s scrunched up her nose, both hands on her hips – as though a bit embarrassed, and determined not to let it show.

She rolls her eyes when he looks at her face, utterly lost for words.

“Harry, you’re allowed to look at my boobs.”

“Sorry – I just – you’re beautiful”, he blurts out.

“Says you”, mutters Ginny, but she’s grinning.

“Reckon I’ve got the Auror thing going for me, at least, yeah?”

“Oh, you’ve got more than that going for you”, she says, her hands wandering along his arms.

It’s Harry’s turn to wrinkle his nose. “Like what, exactly?”

Ginny rolls her eyes and leans into him. “Like the fact that you’re stupidly tall, and your stupid beautiful messy hair, and your stupid gorgeous eyes, and the stupid way you walk, and your stupid, nice hands.”

Harry snorts.

“And you have that mole on your neck, right there”, she says and runs the tips of her fingers along his neck, which sends shivers down Harry’s entire body. “And sometimes your glasses slide so far down your nose they’re almost falling off your face, and it’s _really_ infuriating, because you look all gorgeous and reckless and you’re not even trying.”

Harry breaks into a grin. “Thanks. Never felt sexier.”

“I _am_ trying to get into your pants”, Ginny reminds him. “Speaking of, is it okay if these go?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, because I’m feeling a bit naked right now.”

Harry quickly kicks his jeans off his feet and then suddenly becomes aware of his very visible erection. He blushes furiously.

Ginny hooks her fingers into the hem of his boxers and looks up at him. “These only go if you’re sure”, she says sincerely. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, do I need to warn you that I’m – uh …”

“Harry“, she says, “it’s kind of _hard_ to miss.”

He blinks at her for a second with the expression of someone whose skull has just made contact with a livid bludger. “Are you kidding me?”, he asks, wide-eyed and laughing.

Ginny snickers and buries her face in his chest. “I’m sorry, I have no idea why I said that. I promise it sounded a little more normal in my head.”

“It did?”, Harry asks, impressed.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Ginny opens her mouth as if to retort, and falls silent, her lips slightly parting as she looks up at him.

The corners of Harry’s mouth betray him. She grins back and puts her hand on the back of his neck before she kisses him: Harry revels in the feeling of her bare chest against his, in the way their bodies melt into each other with no clothes between them. Ginny’s hand trails down his chest and to the fine line of dark hair that disappears under the waistband of his boxershorts, and Harry knows she’s waiting for a cue – she won’t go on until he lets her know.

So he reaches down and puts his hands on hers, and together they push down his boxers.

“Is it cool if I touch you?”, Ginny whispers into the kiss, and Harry nods and kisses his way down her neck.

“Definitely cool”, he mutters, so she lets her fingers trail further down his body and wraps her hand around him. Harry‘s mouth falls open.

It’s somehow different and better than every shower fantasy he’s ever had. Maybe it’s the simple fact that this is Ginny, and she’s real, and she’s naked – but he couldn’t think this into existence. This is all her.

“Oh – _fuck –”_

“Good?”

“Don’t stop”, he mutters breathlessly, and Ginny smirks.

She only lets go of him so they can finally stumble towards her bed, a tangle of limbs and hands and mouths crashing down on Ginny’s mattress. After a few moments of breathless snogging and hands sliding down skin, he’s on top of her, and they miraculously manage to come to their senses enough to break apart and look at each other.

Ginny’s fingertips wander down his chest and to his stomach. When his breath hitches, she pauses and lets them trail back up again. Harry huffs. “That’s so mean”, he whispers.

“Sorry.” She teases him for a little longer, touching his legs and lightly grazing his arse with her fingernails, watching as he gasps and squeezes his eyes shut. “Do you still want this?”

“Yeah. Absolutely. You?”

“Oh, god, yes.”

Harry grins and leans down to kiss her, propping up his elbows next to her head, and Ginny raises her legs to wrap them around his hips. When he pushes into her, there‘s a few seconds of quietly shifting and adjusting positions (“Is that okay?” – “Hold on, uh …” – “Wait, let me …” – “Does that feel good?” – _“Oh”_ ), but they don’t take long to figure out a pace and an angle that work, and soon, they fall into a steady rhythm of moans and gasps and fingernails on skin and tongues down necks.

“Gin –”

“Oh, fuck –”

“I’m gonna –”

His movements become erratic and hard when he comes. Ginny grabs a fistful of his hair, and he groans and collapses on top of her, breathing hard and fast.

They kiss, lazily, their sweaty faces and bodies and mouths blurring together.

“Look at the state of you”, Ginny grins, as soon as she’s caught her breath enough to speak. “I messed up your hair.”

“Wasn’t much left to do”, he mutters. They stay like that for a while, revelling in each other’s heat, until Ginny gently pokes his arm and Harry rolls off of her, dropping onto the mattress.

“Holy shit”, he breathes. “That happened.”

Ginny wiggles her eyebrows at him, and they break into laughter. Harry extends an arm, inviting her to scooch closer, but she turns her back to him and heartily smacks his open hand instead.

He’s still staring at her when she turns back around and snuggles into him, lazily dragging a leg over his. “Did – you just high-five me?”

Ginny just grins. Her fingertips are drawing circles on Harry’s chest, and he breathes out slowly, allowing himself to enjoy it. “D’you reckon you can see yourself doing that again sometime?”

“I’ll think about it … hey! I’m kidding!”

Ginny looks at him like she’s considering a retort, but chooses to kiss him instead, and Harry happily sinks into it, letting his hands wander down her back and up again, until her breasts rest in his palms, and she sighs into his mouth.

“We should definitely do that again sometime”, he mutters when they break apart.

“Hm-hm. Deal.” She arches her chest into his hands and grins at him. “Glad you had fun.”

“Wait, did you –“

“What, have fun? I figured it was sort of obvious, but, yeah, plenty.”

“No, did you – uh …”

Ginny snorts at the flush that creeps up his neck. “Well – no, but it’s not that big of a deal”, she says, waving her hand. “Honestly, it‘s kind of normal the first time around.“

Harry considers this for a full second. “Nope. Not acceptable.”

Ginny gasps when he rolls around and pushes her back into her pillow. His mouth travels down her neck and chest, and she sighs and raises her head to watch while he makes his way down her body, just slow enough to be tantalising. She bites her lips when his intent becomes clear, and like the anticipation isn’t already maddening enough, he has the nerve to look up at her when he’s reached her stomach.

“Unless you don’t want me to”, he says, fully pausing in his movements. “Your choice.”

“I definitely want you to”, she mutters. “Merlin, you’re going to kill me.”

“I try.”


End file.
